Dear sign language interpreter,
I’m writing you today, because I really want to be able to give you a hug.
I want to look you in the eyes and tell you that it’s gonna be ok.
That we’re in this together. That we can do hard things.
I want you to know
that even though you may be in isolation all alone,
or an essential worker who has to choose between safety and duty,
or confined to your home with stir-crazy children and work to do,
or checking long-overdue tasks off your to-do list,
or paralyzed by fear,
or binging Netflix…
that whatever it is you’re experiencing,
it’s normal. It’s human. It’s okay.
I want you to know that Burnout Proof Bootcamp is about to begin.
I want you to know that there’s something to look forward to.
I want you to know the joy in coming together with other interpreters,
talking about the hard stuff,
celebrating the good stuff,
and finding accountability within connection.
I want you to know there are many options for payment,
because it’s so important to me that you have access to support.
I want you to know there’s much flexibility in the timeline to complete this course,
that you can take as long as you need,
that you have access for life,
that you’re not just registering for a workshop, you are gaining a support system.
And so, dear one,
I can’t hug you today,
but if I may make a wish, my wish for you is:
May you find willingness to meet yourself
in the many varied moments and moods of these days.
May you feel hope.
May you feel love.
May you feel joy.
May you feel connection,
in as many creative and curious ways as you can imagine.
May you make it through this season,
maybe not even unbroken,
may you make it through transformed.
May this pause be an incubator for us all,
a fertile, pressurized, sacred time of death and rebirth,
And may we find each other, arms open wide, on the other side.
So much love.